Sweet Revenge
by EternalxInsanity
Summary: Sequel to Escape the Asylum. It's been three years since Kane, Daffney, Mankind and Raven escaped and they've had enough of the north. They move to LA, taking on new personas and starting a whole new reign of blood. Raven/Kane, M.Foley/Tara Massively AU
1. Prologue

**Sweet Revenge**

**Prologue**

Loud wailing filled the air as the almost sacred Victorian Villa burned to the ground, the entire place covered in flames. The source of the wailing was a small boy with fiery red hair and bright green eyes with freckles dotting his nose. Beside him was a girl with black and red hair that was tied back in a pony-tail. She's tried to soothe him as his adopted parents watched as the large house burned to the ground.

On the ground near the two was a girl with dark hair and equally dark eye make-up, her eyes wet with tears. Beside her was her friend and one-time lover, his arm wrapped around her protectively. Standing in front of the house was a large bald man and his smaller, blond lover. They both cackled manically as the flames licked at them.

"Well, you did say you wanted them to go out with a bang," the bald man said, turning to his lover. A large grin spread across the blond's face and he bit his lip, trying to hide his joy.

"And I got what I wanted!" he cried, jumping into the big man's arms.

"Happy birthday, lover," the bald one said quietly, poking his beloved in the ribs.

The masked lunatic on the ground stands and glares at the two.

"You know, this is sending up a big sign that says 'HEY STEVIE! WE'RE STILL HERE! COME AND GET US!' Do you have any idea what he's gonna do to us if he finds us?"

The larger man sighed and smacked his friend across the jaw.

"Calm the fuck down. Stevie won't fucking find us. We'll be gone before morning."

"Will we really?" the black and red-haired woman said, taking the masked man's hand. She stood too and looked at the two lovers. "Because I don't wanna be here when the shit hits the fans."

The small blond man giggled and wrapped an arm around his lover's, stroking at the fine hairs on his exposed forearm. The bald man looked at the woman before looking over at the concrete tombstone dug firmly in the ground.

~Here Lies~

Chris 'Abyss' Parks

Born: October 4th, 1983; Buried: September 8th, 2010.

Beloved boyfriend and friend.

May he rest in peace.

His head dropped down as he looked at the tombstone and a single tear escaped his eye and dropped to the ground. His companions looked at him with curiosity, even the baby who had stopped wailing by now, and waited for his reply.

At last, he raised his head and seethes. His face morphed from serene to monstrously angry in a matter of seconds.

"This," he said with a shake of his head, "is FAR from over."

* * *

_Yeah so I updated it :) Happy now? LOL!_


	2. Patience is a Virtue

**Chapter One: Patience is a Virtue**

**OR**

**Airborne Homicide**

RAVEN'S POV

I hate flying. Always have, it annoys me. You know, maybe I'm just scared of heights. Whatever it is, getting on a plane agitates me but according to Kane, my lover of twenty-one years and my best friend, we have to fly to get to Los Angeles, the City of Angels. That's our destination. Sin City. Wonderful. Actually, I think Sin City is Las Vegas but eh, doesn't matter.

In my window seat beside Kane, my leg starts twitching uncontrollably and stare at it until the other leg starts too. A set of pale hands clap themselves on my knees and they stop as I jerk my head to the side to look at my captor. It's Kane. He raises a shaved eyebrow and leans in close.

"Would you stop?" asks my lover, raising his hand and curling his large fingers in my hair, yanking back. I yelp but its cut off by the devouring kiss he gives me and one of his hands slips down my thigh and near my crotch. I groan as my cock springs to life under his touch but before I can do anything about it, he pulls away. Bastard. "Calm the fuck down. We'll be there soon!"

"But I don't like flying!" I whine, stating the obvious. Everyone knows I don't like flying. I'd rather walk or run or kill people.

"I don't care. Sit still; you're annoying me and Cam's gonna wake up." He looks beside him at the cute little almost-four year old boy curled up in the chair, snoring his tiny red head off.

Okay, I'm gonna fill you in case you haven't read the first one (and to refresh in case you have); my name is Scott Levy but I generally go by Scottie or Raven. I'm thirty-seven years old this year and I'm gay. Yes I said it. I'm gay. Kane, AKA Glenn Jacobs, is my lover and we've been that way for twenty-one years. I love him, he loves/sometimes-hates me and Cam loves the both of us. We're a fucked up family. Eh, suddenly got the urge to start singing Barney. Anyway, three years ago, in late 2010, we escaped our prison in the Arch Angel Mental Asylum in Carson City (I was in there for sixteen years, Kane for one, Mick for twenty-five, Tara for none because she's a noobie and Daffney for three) to start our reign of chaos all over again and we were almost caught continuously but luckily we weren't. Cam is mine and Kane's adopted son who we found the same year in Terry Funk's house. Cam is his grandson but he has more characteristics of Kane and myself then anyone.

Each of us (Me, Kane, Tara, Mick and Daffney) have unfinished business in Los Angeles; Dr Stevie, the man who killed Daffney's boyfriend, Chris 'Abyss' Parks, somehow managed to survive us three times and he fled to LA so she's is after him. Tara and Mick have a couple of enemies they want to take care of. Natalie Neidhart and Dwayne Johnson have issues with them so they're going to finish it and Kane and me… well. My worst nightmare came true when I found out who killed my sister, Grace, when I was eleven and he got away. Sandman will pay. Kane is gonna help me because Sandy's bigger then I am and I'd be screwed if I tried by myself.

That enough exposition for you? Okay, on with the story.

My leg starts twitching again and I look at Kane to make sure he's not looking at me. Busted. His left eye twitches and I bite my lip, standing up to get something for my nerves. Scooting past, I feel his hands curl gingerly around my hips before they fall away and I wander down the hall to the kitchen of the plane. Pulling back the curtain, I smile at the two stewardesses. One is blonde and I already dislike her and the other is brunette. She's relatively pretty… for a girl.

"Excuse me," I say politely, smiling charmingly. The blonde goes to answer but the brunette claps a hand over her mouth.

"How can we help you sir?"

An idea pops into my head and I abandon the nerves idea. "I don't know if you can help or not but the toilet in the male restroom is blocked."

She gives me an odd look before being shoved aside by the blonde.

"I'll help," she says and I raise an eyebrow at her tone. She's flirting with me. I know that because I get it all the time. Stupid blond-curly-haired-boyish-charm. She smiles obnoxiously and leads me down the hall.

On the way, I meet Kane's eyes and I shrug as I follow the stewardess. I feel his eyes on me and I put my hand behind my back, flipping him the bird. I hear a scoff and realise one of the other people in our class-thingy (first class coz I'm loaded) witnessed it. I smirk and the stewardess turns, pushing the door to the men's bathroom open. I walk in after her and kick the door shut, startling her. She jerks around and I reach inside my pocket and pull out a small pocket knife. Her eyes widen.

"What-"

"You know what I hate about blondes?" I ask, wrapping my fingers through her long, straight, blonde locks. She slowly shakes her head and yelps as I grip tighter. "You're all so damn stupid."

As I go to ram the knife into her throat, one of her hands cups her stomach and I freeze mid-motion.

"Please," she whimpers, "please, I'm having a baby."

Oh crap. I'm a softie for pregnant women, disabled people and children. Damnit.

I smile sweetly and release her hair, but not before I slice across her cheek. She screams, dropping to the ground like I've kicked her and holds her bleeding cheek. I pull some toilet paper from the roll and hand it to her before leaving the room, slamming the door shut behind me.

I sit back down in my seat and slump forward, crossing my arms over my chest before sliding down my seat. Kane looks at me and I scowl at him.

"She was pregnant," I say flatly and he smiles, ruffling my artificially-blond curls and standing.

"I have no qualms knocking off a chick with a bun in the oven." He leans in close. "Not like I haven't done it before." Kissing my forehead, he turns and leaves. Wonderful.

~X~

KANE'S POV

I don't know what Raven's problem is with killing pregnant chicks is but as I slip down the aisle (sideways because I'm too fucking big), a hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. It's Tara. Her red and black hair shines in the neon lights and the engagement ring on her finger sparkles. She and Mick have been engaged for little over a month now and I am actually happy for them. I knew about Mick's cradle-snatching crush on Daffney from the beginning and I'm glad he's found someone who ISN'T the black-haired Screaming Mimi. Sure, Tara is twenty-three this year as opposed to Daffney's twenty-three but she's better for him then Daffney would have been.

"Any jewellery she's got, steal it," she says with a light squeak. She giggles and I raise an eyebrow as her hand falls away. She's wanted nice jewellery from Mick but he won't give it to her so I do it for him. If it keeps her bitchy ass out of my face then so be it.

I roll my eyes and continue sliding down the hall to the bathroom and gently push the door open. The stewardess Raven didn't off is leaning against the sink with a ball of paper towel against her cheek. I close the door behind me and wait for her to look up before smirking. When she sees's my reflection in the mirror, she yelps and tries to press herself against the wall. I tilt my head and raise an eyebrow.

"I like your hair," I say before I say anything else. It's blonde, straight, and it reaches all the way down to her hips. On the top of her head is a black headband with a bejewelled ribbon attached to it. It's pretty… okay, I like blondes. That kind of speaks for itself when you think about it. Raven's blonde, my ex was blonde back in her early days, Katie was artificially blonde. It was all very… orgasmic.

"Thank you?" she says with a raise of an eyebrow.

"You know that blond that was just in here that sliced up your pretty face?" I ask, taking a step towards her. She presses herself further up against the wall and slowly nods. I smirk. "That's my boyfriend. And he told me you called me a twink." Lies.

"No, I-" I cut her off by cupping a hand over her mouth and I pull a pocket knife from my back pocket. All of us are armed with these now except for Cam whose too young and Tara who comes up with more creative ways to kill people. It's not really for killing though; it's more for self defence. And discreetly killing people. Okay, maybe it is for killing people.

"Shhh. I don't care," I say quietly, gently brushing her hair from her eyes. She starts to cry and mascara and eyeliner bleed down her face. Around her neck is a Diamond studded necklace with 'Kitten' written in curly writing and on another necklace is a black, diamond-studded cross. I know two black-haired girls that would absolutely love them. Interesting. She cries harder and I tilt my head. "Don't scream. Screaming will only make it hurt more." This is a lie. It doesn't stop the pain. She's still gonna die.

I jam the knife into her abdomen, purposefully, and rip up; breaking her ribs and prying them open. Blood explodes out of her as well as other gooey bits and she ruins my new clothes. Damnit. I brought these specifically for killing people in LA and she goes and ruins them before we even land. I let her go and she drops to the floor, dead and still twitching. I smirk and push her onto her back, bending down and tracing a finger down her face.

"I meant what I said, you know," I say more to myself then to her because she's obviously dead. "I really do like your hair."

I grab some paper towel from the sink and wipe the blood from my face and arms (can't do much about my grey and yellow shirt and black jeans now can I?) before stealing her necklaces and heading back to my seat next to Raven and Cam.

"You killed her didn't you?" he asks as I sit down. I throw a balled up piece of paper at Tara so she looks at me before tossing her the Kitten necklace. She grins and Mick helps her put it on before returning to his book. Daffney is sitting three seats down because she wanted to be by herself so I have to get up. How wonderfully horrible. I put a finger up at Raven, translated in Kane-speak that's Hold That Thought, and get up again, sneaking down the aisle to Daffney.

The black haired woman is listening to her iPod at the moment on full blast and it takes her a few seconds to look at me. I don't know how young people these days can listen to music up that loud and not go deaf. She looks at me with tired eyes and I realise she hasn't slept in a few days. Makes sense, we visited Chris's grave before we decided to leave Carson City and she broke down in tears. She misses Chris like Raven misses the sun in winter. Good thing it's Summer now I suppose.

I bend down and hand her the necklace that I rolled up in the bloody paper towel and she pulls out an earphone.

"What's this?" she asks, eyeing it curiously. I smirk.

"A little gift to maybe help you feel better." I stand and kiss her temple, rubbing her head and returning to my seat.

"How do you do that?" Raven asks as I sit back down. I look at him, clasping my fingers together and resting my joined hands behind my head, crossing my legs at the ankles.

"Do what?"

He smiles and puts the armrest up, snuggling into my chest. Automatically, one of my hands wraps around his shoulders and his fingers draw little circles against my blood-stained t-shirt. "Fix everything when I can't."

"All in a day's work, babe."


	3. Los Angeles International Airport

**Chapter Two: Los Angeles International Airport**

**OR**

**Girl-Bonding.**

**A.N: The format of this fic has been edited slightly to incorporate the chase sequence into it. The chase starts in the next chapter but I just wanted to point that out now. ENJOY!**

TARA'S POV

As we step from the plane, Mick entwines his fingers with mine and kisses my knuckles, smiling at me. Gosh, he's so charming sometimes. I do so adore him. Kind of obvious really since I'm marrying him. Kane and Raven walk past us, Raven's arm wrapped around his lover's while he holds a sleeping Cam in his other arm, and trip an elderly man over. The guy falls flat on his face and something inside him snaps. This only makes Kane laugh. Daffney steps over the guy and continues staring at the ground like she has been since we got on the plane in Carson City. Poor girl. I never met Chris Parks, her boyfriend of three years, because he was murdered before I joined the group but she was really attached to him. So attached in fact that her revenge has driven her even madder. Like I said; poor girl.

I let go of Mick's hand and he goes to complain but I silence him with a single look and walk over to Daffney, tugging on a strand of her short, black hair. She instantly looks up and I smile reassuringly at her. Over the past few years, Daffney and I have formed a bond that none of the guys can touch because they don't get it. Girl's have a different perspective on life because we have different tendencies. It's sort of hard to explain so I won't bother.

"Ducky," I say, calling her by her nickname, "Why so glum, chum?" Patting her hair gently, I smile at her and she smiles back slightly then the smile fades and she stops walking. She stares at the ground and then drops to her knees, crying her eyes out.

Kane and Raven stop when they hear her sobbing and Raven touches my hand. I look at him, blinking.

"Deal with it, pleasels?" he asks nicely and I nod, taking Daffney's hand. I know just what to do.

I lift Daffney to her feet and she burries her head in my chest, crying her eyes out and sobbing Chris's name, followed closely by 'it's my fault your gone'.

"Honey, baby, it's not your fault," I sooth, followed by 'shh' a few times over. Patting her back, I pull her away from the crowd that's formed and over to a door that leads to a fuel storage room.

"Chrissy..." she sobs, her fingers curling into my shirt.

I pat her back and try and shush her when I get an idea; Daffney loves blowing things up, right? Well how 'bout I let her blow something up that'll put the whole world into chaos? Works for me.

After explaining my idea, she brightens up. And then she and I push a barrel of jet fuel into the lobby, surprising Kane and Raven who are standing with their bangs over their shoulders. Mick is sitting and he stares at me like I'm an idiot as Daffney pulls out a lighter. How'd she get a hold of that? Cameron, who is sitting beside Mick, blinks at me and squeals.

"Go, Aunty Tara and Aunty Daffney!" he cries and Daffney grins, pulling off the cap of the barrel. We both kick it sideways onto the ground and fuel spills everywhere.

Then we run away as fast as humanly possible.

"Whose got the best throwing arm?" I ask and Kane takes the lighter from Daffney, wrenching back with his arm and throwing the lighter into the airport. In a matter of seconds, the whole place goes up in flames and sends us flying backwards towards town.

I land on a lump of grass with Cam in my arms, completely unhurt. Mick lands beside me and he sits up, clutching at the back of his neck and moaning slightly. Kane is leaning against a tree with Raven in his arms and neither of them seem hurt. Daffney on the other hand is unconscious a few feet away with cuts and big red marks all over her face.

I yelp and crawl over to her and flip her onto her back, checking to see if she's breathing. I breathe out a sigh as I feel her pulse flicker across my fingers. Mick crawls up beside me and puts a comforting arm around my shoulder. I look at Kane who stares at me with a neutral look, as always. He never smiles at me anymore. He did, back when I owned the Black Pearl, but since I gave the ownership to my sister to join the Demon Crew, he's stopped talking to me. I must have gotten annoying.

"Daffney needs a hospital," I say to him and he raises an eyebrow.

"What did I say before we got on the plane?" he asks stubbornly. I shrug, not remembering. That was six hours ago and I don't remember squat. Kane growls. "No hospitals. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves. Not so early in the game anyway."

Of course.

~X~

MANKIND'S POV

After leaving the burning ruins of LAX and venturing into town, we're surrounded by huge buildings, palm trees and girls wearing bikinis. The sun kissed girls skate past us as we walk down Hollywood Boulevard, and my eyes follow after them, out of instinct. Tara smacks me across the chest and gives me a sharp look. I shrug and give her my most apologetic look; she knows I love her. She rolls her eyes and wraps her arm around mine while hugging Daffney's arm too. The short little screamer regained consciousness about an hour ago and she's still a little out of it.

It's weird; Daffney and I shared a night of passion and it could have potentionally been good IF Chris hadn't have died. But I'm sort of grateful to him because if he hadn't have been murdered, Daffney wouldn't have been completely emotionally detached, ditched me (sort of) and I wouldn't have met and fell for the beautiful woman walking beside me. It's sort of a win-lose situation for me because I have the woman of my dreams but the woman of my dreams happens to be clingy to my friend/one-time-lover. Weird.

"Daddy," Cam asks from Raven's shoulders and Raven looks up at him.

"Yeah, Cammers?"

"Why are the girls all in their underwear?"

This promptly throws each of us, except Cam, into fits of laughter. Kane reaches over and pulls Cameron into his arms. Cam latches onto him and Raven ruffles his shiny red hair, the hair he inherited from his father, whoever that is. I knew Stacy Funk; she was a brunette, and so was her husband. How he got red hair, no one knows.

"They're not, Cammie," Kane muses, hoisting the small boy onto his shoulders.

"They look like it." Cam holds Kane's head as his almost four-year-old fingers probe at his skin. Kane smirks and holds the young boy's legs.

"They're called bikinis, Cam. You wouldn't have seen them in Nevada because it was a desert. This is a beach; girls tend to be skinnier and more tanned and..." he blinks for a second as a couple of bikini-clad girls skate past, their tanned legs shining in the sun. "I lost my train of thought." He looks at me and I raise an eyebrow, smirking. He smirks back and puts an arm around Raven as we continue walking up the street. I look at Tara and she gives me an odd look before I smirk and say;

"I think I'm gonna like it here."


	4. Cat and Mouse

**Chapter Three: Cat and Mouse**

**OR**

**Let the Games Begin**

STEVIE'S POV

Scribbling down the last of my observations for the morning onto my clipboard, I tuck the pen back into my pocket and look at the lagoon, just as a large black shadow swims past. Mamasita, a 30 foot genetically enhanced mako shark, is the single biggest fish this side of Long Island. And it's my job to take care of her. Brilliant.

I drop my hand down against the tip of the water just as Mamasita's baby, Nemo, swims against my hand and the door to my office opens. I turn as Amy Dumas, my assistant, steps onto the platform, holding a tray of salmon and other random fish.

"Good morning, Amy," I say and she smiles, her dimples showing.

"Good morning, Doctor Richards," she responds and pulls the salmon from the tray. She steps onto the walkway surrounding the fenced in lagoon and drops the fish into the water. I watch through the mesh plating as Mamasita swims back towards the edge and guzzles down the fish, chewing it between her razor-sharp teeth. I shudder as Amy feeds Nemo as well.

Before I was a marine biologist, I was a psychiatrist working at an asylum in Carson City under terrible conditions. Five of my patients escaped, but you probably already knew that. Kane, Raven, Daffney, Abyss and Mankind still haven't been caught, to my knowledge, (except for Abyss who is dead) and are probably searching my hometown for me. I pity them; they'll never suspect I moved across the border. Now I look after giant, man eating fish. How ironic.

As Amy steps away from the lagoon railing and back into the office, a loud explosion ricochets from the inner city, rattling the windows. I jump and block her from the breaking glass as it clatters to the floor. Looking up through the window, my eyes widen as explosion after explosion illuminates the cloudy sky. Los Angeles International Airport ignites in flames below.

"What the hell is going on?" Amy shouts as I jump to my feet. Five figures walk away from LAX, one very tall and very pale.

Oh no.

I reach for the phone and dial, hearing the phone ring and ring and ring.

Please pick up.

~X~

PHIL'S POV

_Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring._

I slowly open my eyes to the sound of the phone ringing, groaning as that persistent sound buzzes around my head. Morgan, my wife and mother to my children, moves in between my arms and reaches her slender, scarred arm out from underneath the dooner. Her fingers curl around the receiver and she presses answer on the phone, placing it against her ear.

"Hello?"

I raise my head and look at the clock on my side of the bed to check the time. Four in the afternoon. I groan and throw my head back, running my fingers through my slick, black hair. On my one night off, the phone has to ring. Wonderful. See, Morgan is a police officer who patrols at night with her partner, Morris. Me, I work at an asylum three days a week as a night doctor for those with chronic insomnia and five very special cases. Well they used to be, before they escaped and tried to kill me! They also tried to kill my partner, Stevie. Tried being the emphasized word. They failed, multiple times, to kill the some-what sadistic doctor. I changed jobs to keep me and my family safe; now I'm a professional wrestler. Talk about a leap.

"Hold ya horses, Richards, I'll put him on." Morgan turns her head to look at me. A bandana covers the bottom half of her face, hiding the scars she received at the orphanage she grew up in and the scars received in the fire that killed her parents. Well, one of them. The other was a patient of mine, but more on that story later.

I take the phone from her and look at the blank wall.

"We have a problem," Stevie says on the other line. I raise an eyebrow.

"What kind of problem?" I ask, still half asleep. I yawn just as he answers.

"The 'Kane and his whacko friends have found me and I'm gonna die, come help me' kind of problem. THEY BLEW UP LAX!" I hold the receiver away from my ear as he yells this and close an eye, looking to my wife. She giggles, a sound I don't hear very often.

I deal with Stevie and hang up, pulling on my jeans and a plain black t-shirt.

"What's wrong?" Morgan asks from the bed as she switches on the lamp. I pull my hair into a tight pony-tail and look at her, taking her in. Standing at 5"11 with long red hair and skin as white as snow, my Morgan is truly something beautiful. She'll deny it and say she's a monster because of her scars and fragile esteem, but I think she's amazing. Maybe I'm biased. Either that or she was sent to me from heaven.

My eyes run up her pale white legs and up to her thighs, sneaking a peek between her legs before she crosses them. Sitting there in my Chicago Bulls basketball jersey and her hair all frizzy, she looks frighteningly cute.

"You're old man is back and he means business," I say calmly. Her temple twitches; her father is a very sensitive subject to her. Being the cop daughter of the single most wanted serial killer in the entire country has made her job very difficult. Three years ago, Morgan was put on the case to track down and find her father, and put him in prison, but she failed when her family ties got in the way.

"What did he do?" she asks and I sigh, pulling on my doctor's coat and tightening the rubber band in my hair.

"Sent Los Angeles into chaos by blowing up LAX. I've gotta give Stevie some back up." I pull my gun from the top draw and put it into my pocket, keeping it safe.

"I'll come with you," Morgan says and climbs from the bed, pulling on her sweats. Before she can do anything else, I'm on her like a moth to a flame. I push her back onto the bed and stare into her beautiful mis-matched eyes. One green, one blue, completely breath-taking.

"You stay and look after our babies," I state firmly, referring to Narrissa and Gabriel, our five-year-old twin babies. The bandana moves, and I know she's chewing on her lip, as usual. It's her way of biting back an insult or a sarcastic barb, two things she's known for.

"But he's my father," she says finally and I shake my head, crouching down, I look up into her eyes and she stares back.

"He's my problem. Stay here. If I need you, I'll call. I promise." I kiss her temple and return to packing a bag, getting ready to leave to help my partner and my best friend hopefully kill four mental patients that can't be sedated, even with the most powerful drugs.

I hope we can do this.


	5. Hilton Homicide

**Chapter Four: Hilton Homicide**

**OR**

**Famous Fatality**

DAFFNEY'S POV

Okay, I admit it. Blowing up LAX was pretty fun. But I wish Chris had have been there to blow it up with me. But I can't dwell in the past. Stevie's blood will be my revenge on the no good, bastard doctor who took him from me.

Wow, I'm getting angry again. A stronger emotion then sadness I suppose. Meh, oh well.

After out trip to the beach to scope the place out, Kane decides we should find a place to crash and set up a base of operations. As the unchallenged leader of the Whack, he gets to decide everything. No one would dare so anything against anything Kane says. Last time that happened Kane locked them in a basement with only Raven for company. Now, I love the little bastard, but he is as annoying as hell when it comes right down to it. When he's on a roll, he doesn't stop talking. Ugh, it gets annoying, which is why I never EVER cross Kane.

There are so many places we could go to for a place to crash but Kane decides to go for the biggest and flashiest of them all; the Hilton Hotel on the beach. We step into the lobby with our stuff and activity stops. No one dares move an inch. I don't know why for a second but then I look up at our Big Red Monster.

The glare on Kane's face could burn a hole in anyone. I look over to see who he's glaring at and by God, its Mark. He and his missus (at least I think it's his missus, she's shorter then she was when I first saw her, and her hair has a brown tinge to it) are standing at the reception desk. Mark is staring back at Kane like he's seen a ghost.

Its silent for a minute but then (you guessed it) Raven starts jumping up and down like a loon and drops his bag, running over to Mark and hugging him to death.

"Hi, Marky! Hi, Marky!" he yells and Mark gags as Raven's hug gets tighter. The woman beside Mark, who I now know is NOT Michelle, giggles and he glares at her.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Mark asks of Kane once Raven lets go. Kane stomps up beside his lover and smirks an evil sort of smirk.

"Tying up some lose ends," he says flatly.

Mick and Tara turn to look at each other, and then they walk over too. I'm left standing in the door way, my head hung and my black hair in my eyes. Before I know what's happening, I drop my bags and head outside where the sun is setting. I stop at the boardwalk leading to the Hilton and watch as the sun drops into the sea and drowns beneath the crashing waves.

As it gets darker, more people seem to arrive on the coast. Guys wearing hoodies and girls wearing short shorts and bikini tops glide down the boardwalk as if unnoticed by anyone passing by. It's just a normal day in LA.

I decide to walk down to the beach when I hear a high-pitched scream, followed by that all too familiar sound of instant silence. Either Kane has decided to have some fun without me, or there's ANOTHER serial killer in Los Angeles.

Turning around, I see a blonde girl be slammed against the wall by a guy of about 6"1. He's wearing a hoody so I can't see his face, but he looks strong. He rams a butcher knife into her gut and wrenches up. The girl screams, but he covers her mouth as blood starts coming out of it.

"Rejected," he says, pulling out his knife and letting her drop to the ground. He watches as she twitches and moans, obviously still alive, while his head tilts to the side.

He must feel eyes on him because he turns around and looks at me.

Oh. My. God.

Its Shannon Moore. I should have known it was him. If you've been living in the thirteenth century for the past year, let me give you the low down. He's almost as famous as Kane as a killer, and he still hasn't been caught at all. As the most famous serial killer across the border, Shannon Moore is sort of an inspiration to me. His kill-streak is 128, not including the homeless, strippers or children. Can you say wow? He's killed more people then Kane, the only reason why Kane is more famous is because he's been doing it longer, that and he's a serial rapist, not just a murderer.

Okay, off topic but meh.

Shannon gives me this look that says, 'you tell anyone and I'll gut you,' and I smirk. I walk over to him and he backs up a bit. I pull the pocket knife from my pocket and pick up the girl. She's pretty. Blonde, straight nose, green eyes, perfect teeth. Meh. I jam the pocket knife so hard into her neck that I practically decapitate her. That puts her to rest. But just to make me more special than him, I take my bloody knife, lick it because I'm sick like that, and jam it into her eye.

"Wow."

I turn and see Shannon pull off his hood. Meow, someone cut me off a slice of that. His hair is in a mini Mohawk, black blonde and blue strips, and his face is painted. Black tears run down his face like he's been crying while wearing eyeliner, and I can spy tattoos around his neck. Oh my giddy aunt is he hot.

"That was pretty gruesome…" he pauses and gives me a sly smirk. "I like it."

"Meh. I really don't like blondes," is my response and he smirks. I remove my knife from her eye and wipe it off on her shirt. "They seem to annoy me more than any other hair color, I think."

He smirks and looks at me with a cocky smirk.

"I'm Shannon Moore," he says, offering me his hand.

Inside I'm screaming like a crazy fangirl, but I keep a calm and collected face as I take his hand, shaking it firmly.

"Maria Cortez," I say, giving him the fake name I chose for this. I kinda have to for safety reasons.

As he's standing in the alleyway with his back to the employee only door to the hotel, Shannon doesn't seem to notice a guy come out the door, looking for someone.

"Maryse? Maryse!"

Shannon and I both look at him and he turns. Oh, its just Mike Mizanin, aka The Miz from the WWE. I never did like him. And judging by the look on Shannon's face, he doesn't like him either.

Jackpot.

We both have sadistic smirks on our faces as we walk up to him, grabbing him by the arms. He seems surprised at first, but then he struggles, kicking me in the back of the leg. Evidently, he struck a nerve and I go crashing into a bunch of trash cans. I turn around, my ass wet from landing in garbage juice, to see Shannon glaring at Miz.

"That's no way to treat a lady, Mizanin," he says, socking him right in the face. Miz lands right beside me and he looks up at me.

"What'cha looking at, Paranoia?"

Did he just call me… oh hell no! I am not a freaking doll for you to set fire to and call it a piece of art. That does not fly with me. Clearly my anger stricken face seems funny to him because he starts laughing as Shannon prepares to stab him. Before you can say yahtzee, though, my feet wrap around Miz's neck and the next thing you know… SNAP! His neck is broken, and he's dead. Shannon blinks at me as I flip to my feet and drag Miz's soon-to-be maggot filled body to a dumpster and drop it in. I pull a box of matches from my pockets and strike one, throwing it in. It catches onto paper and plastic and everything else and Miz starts to burn like the pussy-juice milkshake he is.

"That was… I think I'm in love," Shannon says and I stare at him. Then, the fangirl in me decides to spaz and I giggle like a little school girl as he drops Maryse's body into the dumpster beside Miz.

I concur with Mr. Moore's statement.

I think I'm in love.


	6. Introductory Intimidation

**Chapter Five: Introductory Intimidation**

**OR**

**Leadership**

RAVEN'S POV

When we finally book a room at the Hilton, Kane, Mick, Tara and I go upstairs to the suite. It's a big one too, with lots of open windows, right at the top of the famous hotel. A plush sofa sits in the centre of the room, surrounded by flowers and candles and all that girly stuff. Through an open set of doors is the beach-view balcony and through a carefully carved archway is the kitchen. Three bedrooms lay to the left, each with white carved doors with golden handles and locks.

I drop my bags and flop down onto the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. Kane smirks and sits on the arm, stroking my hair, looking around the room.

"Good choice," he says and I smile. Mick and Tara stand in the archway, Tara leaning against Mick as he watches Kane and I.

"So who's first?" asked the formerly masked lunatic. He dropped the masked version of himself, Mankind, when Chris was killed, thinking it too much of a memory and has now opted for his usual persona, Cactus Jack, the hard-hitting, bare-fisted bar fighter I knew back before I got locked away. Tara has apparently taken on another persona too, Victoria Jack, Cactus's wife. Kane and I chose to be brothers instead of lovers and stole Mark's last name. Glenn and Scott Calaway from Washington, D.C. A perfect cover.

Kane looks at his longest friend and scrunches his mouth in thought. He looks incredibly adorable, which makes me laugh. He pats my head and smiles, looking back at Mick.

"Johnson and Neidhart. They're the least important on the list, I think."

We have a list? I thought we were doing this at random. Hmm… Oh!

I raise my hand and jump up and down slightly, using my free hand to yank and Kane's jeans. He looks down at me and raises an eyebrow.

"Where's Sandman on the list?" I asked, sincerely wanting to know. I want to know how long it's going to take for me to drive my knife right through that sister-killing, ass-fucker's esophagus. Kane must know this because he smiles slightly.

"As soon as we're done with Rocky and Nattie, we'll deal with Sandy. I promise."

I smile at him and cuddle his arm as Daffney comes in, dragging some blonde guy behind her. Kane's eyes narrow and he glares at the kid with Daffney, immediately not liking him.

"Wow," says the kid and Daffney giggles, cuddling his arm. I raise an eyebrow, frowning while Mick and Tara stare. "You weren't kidding when you said you knew Kane."

Kane smirks and stands, crossing his arms over his chest. This can't be good.

~X~

KANE'S POV

I glare at the kid, he looks to be in his late twenties, and eye him. What a jack-off. Seriously, if he thinks he can march in here just because he's got Daffney on his arm, he's got another thing coming.

"And who might you be?" I say as nicely as I can, which is harder than it sounds because I'm not known for my nice-ness. He steps back a bit and looks at me.

"Shannon Moore."

Oh, the LA Street killer. I know all about him. Everyone, including Daffney, thinks he's got a higher killstreak then me, which is untrue. His is, so far, 128, as opposed to my 1469. Yeah, who's winning? I think I am. He's been murdering people since his father was murdered in the Downtown street wars about 4 years back, but I'm still better than he is, always have been. His is a vengeance gig that he already fulfilled when he shot his step-brother in the jaw, effectively blowing his head off. Now he can't stop. Mine is a vengeance gig that's keeps getting bigger. At first it was just Mark who I wanted revenge on for murdering our parents and scarring me permanently, making me a walking, talking monster, then it was Stevie Richards who put Raven away in the Asylum, then it was Phil Brooks, one of the Doctors who pleaded against me when I went to court. Then it was Stevie again for being a needle-happy, murderous, cock-sucking scum-bag who idealizes injecting his patients with lethal doses of drugs just to shut them up. Now it's Stevie and Sandman, both of whom will get what's coming to them. But me? I can stop killing whenever I want to; I'm not an addict.

"Good for you, kid," I say, stalking over to him. He shrinks in size and I inwardly grin but keep a blank face on the outside. Just to freak him out, I narrow my eyes at him and he gulps. To my utter surprise, Daffney steps between us, apparently protecting her new boy-toy.

"Leave him alone," She growls at me and I stare down at her, arching my back so we're at eyelevel.

"Or what? You'll burst my eardrums. Cute, Daff, real cute." I stand back up straight, an idea popping into my head. I smirk slowly and this evidently frightens Daffney who steps back behind Shannon. I grin. "On second thought; we could use you, Moore?"

"We could?" Daffney and Raven say together, staring at me like I've gone loony. I nod my head.

"Now it's an even playing field. Instead of our five-one advantage on Stevie, it's now six-one, which in my books is even."

Raven giggles behind me at my horrible math skills and I grin, walking over and ruffling his hair.

I look to Mick. "Besides, he probably knows the LA streets better than us, and knows where to find Johnson and Neidhart."

Shannon perks up. "As in Dwayne Johnson and Nattie Neidhart? The wrestling couple?" I nod and he grins. "I know exactly where they are."

I smirk and mock happiness, a plan formulating in my head.

"See, problem solved."


	7. Pain and Desires

**Chapter Six: Pain and Desires**

**OR**

**Want**

A.N: Warning: Contains graphic (semi) sex. Reader discretion is advised. OMG HET SEX!

TARA's POV

While leaning against the doorway watching Kane threaten this new kid, Shannon, my mind starts to wander, back to the middle of last year, just before spring break started for the college kids. We were in Miami for the break and it was around that time I discovered I was pregnant. The only one I told was Daffney and she promised to take it to her grave. You'd think I would be happy about it, since I was going to be a mommy for the first time, but I was completely petrified. The Demon Crew still has a job to do, so Daffney and I can't go getting pregnant. I wanted to tell Mick, but I figured he'd be mad at me since he's the one who came up with that idea in the first place. When I got up the courage to inform the whole group, I was shot. Kane had been using me as an example, much to mine and Mick's protest, to stay away from him because he was armed and dangerous, and had shot me just south of my naval, instantly killing my child. I'm fine now, obviously, but my mental stamina has gone down sufficiently. I can't even look at a child now without breaking down into a sobbing, weeping mess on the floor.

I shiver once and Mick must notice this because his arms curl around me, his fingers lacing with mine.

"You okay?" he asks quietly as Kane, Shannon, Raven and Daffney plot. I nod my head but inside I'm screaming. Instead of actually screaming, I curl into my beloved's arms.

This must confuse him because he wraps his arms around me and rubs my back, stroking my hair; he only ever does that if he's confused.

As quietly and as stealthy as we can, we walk into our designated room. I sit down on the bed and Mick stares at me, like I've just blurted something completely incoherent and irrelevant. Then after a minute, I start to cry and he climbs onto the bed behind me, his fingers digging gently into my shoulder blades. This impromptu massage is his way of comforting me, but I don't want his comfort, I was his offspring. I want to have his baby, to start a legacy of my own.

It also makes me cry even more and I fall into his arms, crying my eyes out. My make-up must be dripping down my face in great balls of black and red goo but I don't care; sometimes big girls need to cry.

"Tara," comes my beloved's voice in my ear as he rubs my back. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"I want to have a baby," I say, though my face is pressed against his shirt. He continues patting my back.

"Wanna repeat that?"

I pull back. "I wanna have a baby."

He stares at me like he's going to scream. "What?"

Then it all tumbles out; my jealousy of the way Kane and Raven are with Cam, how seeing new mothers and their children makes me want to gouge my own eyes out, how all my life I've wanted to change myself into a decent person and how being a mother seems to be the only way to do that. All Mick does when I cry and blurt out these facts is stare at me like I've gone crazy(er) and stroke my back affectionately.

When I stop I look at him, as if prompting him to say something or even make a sound like a squeak, all he does is stare at me, his face stuck in panic.

Oh Goddess, what have I done?

~X~

MANKIND'S POV

Though being silent might not be the best idea at this point, what the fuck am I supposed to say? Tara wants to have a baby, with me presumably, because she thinks it will help her. I tend to agree to be honest, but imagine this for a second; five serial killers, each with their own unique illnesses, raising a child who is actually spawned from them instead of adopted, to be a decent human being. I don't see that happening in the near future.

"Well?" Tara says, a look of sad concern on her face, like she's afraid of what I'm gonna say. I swallow back the lump in my throat and bring my fingers up to gently trace her cheek and jaw with my finger tips. She bites her lip and leans into my touch.

"Honey," I whisper, leaning in to nudge my nose against hers. She smiles. "I want to have a baby with you, but not right now."

Tara's face goes from sad to confused in about two seconds and I pull her in and kiss her firmly on the mouth.

All horrible thoughts blow straight out the window as she curls her arms around my neck, deepening the kiss as my fingers slip under her shirt. She pulls away first, probably to breath, but she ends up asking me something.

"Why not?"

"Hmm?" At this point, I have completely forgotten what we were talking about. The idea of her squealing beneath me as I blow her mind (in both the decent and indecent way) is something I don't intentionally want to pass up. I'm sick like that.

"Why don't you want to have a baby just yet?"

I blink; that's what we were talking about? Whoops. I smirk at her and trail my hand back over her cheek and give her a simple, straight, legitimate, to-the-point answer.

"Because we still have a job to do. After that we can make as many babies as you like."

This seems to satisfy her because she pounces on me, devouring my mouth with hers. I take her in and gently trail my fingers up her side, removing her shirt and then her bra, kissing her neck and jawline. Undoing the buttons of my shirt, she pushes the tartan material from my shoulders and tosses it to the ground. I drape her legs over my lap as this happens; making my beautiful fiancée straddle me as I place gentle kisses along her jaw and throat, feeling her grind her hips against me.

To say this woman drives me wild would be the biggest fucking understatement ever. Every drag of her nails across my skin, every tender kiss to my jaw and throat sends my nerves into a complete downward spiral and my self control explodes into thousands of tiny pieces. She's doing that thing now; her crimson lips press against my jaw as she unbuttons my jeans, clumsily, and reaches in to take my twitching cock in her hand. I groan a little, curling my fingers tightly into the soft comforter on the bed. She giggles at this and gently strokes my throbbing member as it comes to life at her command. Though I don't like to admit it out loud, Tara is a master at making me melt into a puddle on the floor. It's kind of what she does. I melt, she takes advantage, I distract then take advantage, I fuck her, she screams my name, and then we fall asleep. Same old.

This time it doesn't change. She continues to stroke me while I force a kiss. She doesn't mind though. In fact, she kisses back in that same hungry way and pushes me down so I'm on my back, never letting go of my cock as this happens. She remains straddled over my waist and I take advantage of this, slipping my hand between her legs and gently stroking her already-soaked pussy through her panties. She shivers and that's when I take advantage of this situation and flip us over, giving her a cute smirk. She giggles as I devour her neck, placing kisses and love bites over the tanned skin behind her earlobe. She kicks her skirt off and my jeans and boxers join her stuff on the floor.

Curling her arms around my neck and forcing me to kiss her, Tara's tongue dances with mine in a searing passion matched only by the very fires of Hell. During this, my cock has twitched back to life and is now rock hard and ready to be put to use. I slip into her with ease, a motion I've come to familiarize myself with because I know it all too well. She shivers and pulses her hips up to meet mine, in sync with my movements as I thrust within her. She shifts a bit but I bite down gently into her lower lip, hard enough to blood but not enough to hurt her too much, and this stops all movement for a minute. Like any good little serial killer, and the woman I know and love, the taste of blood inside her mouth drives her wild and she groans, meeting my thrusts each time as she grinds her hips with mine.

It isn't long until she reaches her climax; her walls push together as she shivers, throwing her head back and arching her shoulders as I gently bite at the curve of her breast. This evidently causes me to explode inside her, the feeling of her skin against mine enough to drive me wild.

"Oh, Mick!" she all but screams but I silence her by kissing her, my mouth exploring hers yet again. My cock twitches as I pull it from her, the last of my seed dripping onto her bare stomach. She opens her eyes and looks at me, brushing a curl of my brunette hair out of my eyes. I smile and kiss her, allowing her to flip us over so she can curl into my chest.

The blanket gets pulled over us so we don't freeze and I trace affectionate drawings on her arm, my finger tip trailing over her spider tattoo.

"Mickles," she murmurs, already half asleep.

"Mmm?"

"What are we gonna do about that back-stabbing bitch and her boy-toy?"

Obviously she's referring to Johnson and Neidhart. I smirk, gently patting her back as I lean down to kiss her hair. She smells of kiwi and lime and it smells amazing.

"They'll get what's coming to them, don't you worry about that."


	8. The Plan

**Chapter Seven: The Plan**

**OR**

**Tag-Team Mayhem**

STEVIE'S POV

"Okay, thank you, Amy."

I hang up my cell phone as I stand at the bus-station waiting for Phil. Amy had called informing me of Mamasita and Nemo's progress in their tank. Neither like being confined, but that's the only way we can watch them. Reinforced titanium fencing keeps both sharks in their pens, and they're fed daily, so we're safe, but they do get aggressive sometimes, like a set of serial killers I know.

It's late, about eleven at night, and the bright moon hangs high in the sky. I really shouldn't be here at this point but Phil's only ever been to LA once and that was when he and Morgan were coming through from Chicago to Carson City. But that was three years ago, before I left the asylum after almost being murdered and after Phil changed his profession from Psychiatrist to professional wrestler. Smart choice on both our parts, I think. I have the job of meeting my ex-partner at the bus-station, since LAX is no more.

Jim Fullington, known mostly as the Sandman, steps up beside me, his hands stuffed in his pockets, a cigarette hanging from his bottom lip. A puff of silvery smoke curls into the air like steam from a hot dinner. I nod in greeting, running a hand over my long hair.

"Evening, Jim," I say to the former gang-leader. He nods and exhales the smoke, the silvery wisps of poison slipping into the air as he removes the cigarette from his mouth and looks at me.

"Evening, Dr Richards," he says with a nod and he looks around, just as Phil's Greyhound pulls up. The Chicago native steps off the bus with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder, his dark hair slicked back. Jim turns to face the shipping container behind me and turns his head to look at me while Phil grabs the rest of his gear from the bus. I look at Jim as he takes another drag of his smoke. "You got my stuff?"

I raise an eyebrow and shake the pocket of my jacket. A soft rattle pierces the night air and he nods: I have the same pills I use to not die when it comes to my four 'favorite' lunatics. He buys them off me to keep him alive because the same lunatics are after him. Useful, considering he has a new girlfriend to take care of too.

"You got my money?" I answer his question with a question and he nods, handing a wad of cash to me. I hand him the plastic jar of pills and he smirks, winking at me. Inwardly I shudder but I smile back as he saunters off.

I wouldn't say I'm homophobic, just gays seem to irk me. Specifically Raven, Kane and Sandman. All three are flamboyantly gay. Well, Kane is 'bi-sexual' (says he) and Sandman will deny being gay. He has a 'higher sex drive then most men,' which is actually scary when you think about it.

"What was that about?" Phil asks as he steps up to me, backpack on one shoulder, duffle bag on the other. I roll my eyes and drag him off towards the mariner, where the lab is. Phil's far too nosy. What I do for Sandman is not his business. Besides, we have more pressing matters to attend to.

~X~

PHIL'S POV

"I had this feeling they'd come after me, but I always hoped they wouldn't."

I roll my eyes at Stevie as he rushes about his office, tidying things up and finishing off notes and filing things. You'd think with five serial killers on his tail he'd be at home hiding, but Kane, Raven, Tara, Mankind and Daffney aren't exactly the dullest crayons in the box; they would eventually find him, and I have no doubt about them finding him now.

"So why am I here again?" I ask as the sound of grinding teeth and water splashing catches my attention. I turn my head and look into the illuminated fenced-in area of the lagoon where Stevie does his freaky experiments. A big black shadow thrashes back and forth and -what looks like- red ink spews from its jaws. I shudder and look back at Stevie.

The mad doctor- and I say that with love of course since he's my best friend- smirks and looks at me, slipping his white coat from his shoulders. He also removes his shoes, socks, pants and blue button-up shirt. He steps out onto the mesh grating above the lagoon and dives over the fence, into the pool to join his 'friends'.

I go to the railing and watch his illuminated silhouette swim across the bottom of the pool. A large shadow, about 30 feet long, follows behind him at an arm's length. Knowing exactly what these brutal hunters are capable of, I shout a warning to Stevie. I don't think he hears me but right before the Mako Shark tries to turn him into fish food, he jerks to the side and barely misses those massive jaws. I have to say; I'm impressed. It must take a sheer amount of skill and stamina to escape those teeth. Or maybe just being paranoid of being things behind you. Whichever.

It takes a bit but Stevie eventually finds what he was looking for in the tank; a license plate from Long Island, almost bitten in two. He climbs out of the tank with it in his hand and pulls his goggles off, tying his hair back in a slick pony-tail.

"See, giant fish I can handle. Giant serial killers who are going to find me and murder me…" he gives me an odd look. "Not so much."

I raise an eyebrow and smirk at him while he gets changed. "You didn't answer my question, Richards!" I shout to him and he pokes his head out of the bathroom.

"You're here because you and I both know what these five lunatics are capable of." I give him an odd look; speak English, Doc. He stares at me then disappears for a second before coming back in with his keys and bag. "Plus you know how to fire a gun."

I nod and smirk and follow him from the room.

So our plan is… wait… we don't have a plan. Well that's useful.

We are so screwed.


	9. Slipped Away

**Chapter Eight: Slipped Away**

**OR**

**Vengeance**

A.N: Slipped Away belongs to Avril Lavigne and is from the album Under My Skin. –sniff- It's a beautiful song. Go listen to it!

DAFFNEY'S POV

In the morning, Shannon leads the two lovers down to the pier where Johnson and Neidhart are, which leaves me stuck at the penthouse with Kane, Raven and Cam. No big deal, I suppose. At breakfast I absentmindedly stir my spoon around my cereal, leaning on my hand as I stare blankly at the milk. Raven stretches and yawns as he comes in, running his hand through his pastel blond hair. I barely notice this but he pulls my cereal away and I jerk back to reality. Sometimes I think he lives to annoy me. I give him a dirty look and all he does is grin cockily. Bastard.

"Give me that look again and you'll go home pregnant, Levy," I say, flinging a cornflake at him. He winks and pulls a protein bar from the pantry.

"What's got you irked this fine Los Angeles morning, Miss Daffney?" he asks as he leans on the bench and looks at me, munching away on his bar. I give him another dirty look.

"I have a problem, and it's not a problem that _you_ can help me with," I say with a grin and he gives me a scowl in return. I smirk, just as Kane comes into the room.

"Morning," he says in a sing-song voice, unusually cheerful for someone who hates the world and everybody in it. I give him a questioning look and all he does is flip me the bird before curling his arms around his boyfriend's waist and kissing his exposed neck. Raven tilts his head, allowing Kane to do this, while giving me a cute look.

"What problem do you have, darlin'?" he asks, his voice coming out in barely a whisper as Kane continues to devour his neck. The look on Kane's face says that he's holding back for my sake and I roll my eyes. A strand of my hair falls into my eyes and I flick it back, eyeballing the bald man and his lover for a second.

In my peripheral vision, the kitchen of the penthouse changes to the kitchen at the Victorian Villa we burnt to the ground three years ago. Behind Kane, an image that's haunted my nightmares since it happened wafts into view, his body transparent, the needles in his arms, torso and neck glowing red. Behind the chocolate brown and red mask and the deep brown curls I can see two red eyes, burning now with hatred, when they once burned with lust and compassion. Chris Parks, my dead lover and my best friend, stares at me with those eyes.

"Why did you let this happen to me, Daffney?" Chris's voice says, sounding all the more demonic as other voices say the same thing. "Why did you let me be killed?"

I'm frozen and can't say a thing; sure, I've had nightmares of him saying the same thing, but day dreams? I don't think so. I'm not the type of girl to day-dream about anything; it just isn't my style.

I shake my head and hold my temples; this isn't happening, it can't be happening.

_"Daffney?"_

_"Ducky?"_

Raven and Kane's voices break through my hallucination as Chris steps closer to me, holding his hand out to me. His lips mouth '_join me,'_ but I shake my head. Kane's hand breaches the barrier between reality and lunacy and gently holds my shoulder. My instincts kick in though and I grab his hand and flip him to the ground. My hallucination ends then and Kane looks up at me with his mis-matched eyes and just stares blankly. I blink down at him and he starts laughing. Really, laughing? That's appropriate since I just dropped a seven foot, three-hundred-pound giant onto his ass. Raven instantly comes around the bench and helps him to his feet. I turn and look away just as Kane looks at me with a very proud expression. I can't keep holding this in, so I leave to cry on the beach.

~X~

The sun is high in the sky when I stop walking. Truth be told, I have no idea where the fuck I am but who cares. I had to get away; seeing that image of Chris, standing there in the kitchen, in the same condition he was the last time I saw him… no, it was too much. Eventually I crumple to my knees on the beach, just south of the pier. There's a carnival on the pier with rides and games and music, usually things I'd bolt for if I ever had the chance, but now I can't stand it; the last time I was at the carnival I was with Chris. We killed someone named Charlotte and buried her body before climbing onto the Ferris wheel to watch the sunset. We must have been, I don't know, sixteen? We'd broken out of our stupid asylum for a couple of weeks (yes, I said weeks. The asylum wasn't that heavily guarded (at the time), and we weren't the most dangerous) and went on a crime spree. From killing to theft, you name it, we did it.

The sand is warm beneath my body as I fall to my stomach, crying my eyes out. The image of Chris the way we found him haunts me as I lay there, curling my fingers into the grains of sand. The crashing of the waves against the sand slowly turns into a heart beat inside my head; his heartbeat. The one I crave to hear again.

I curl into a ball on the sand, even as I hear someone coming up the beach behind me. I sit up and hold my legs close to me, resting my face on my knees to hide my tears. I hurt all over; like an addict whose supply of heroine or coke has been taken away.

A slender hand sits on my shoulder with black painted nails with white dots on them. I shudder for a second but I get the familiar sense that I know this person. The nail style looks so familiar to me. I lift my head and turn.

Oh. My. God.

"Sammie?" I sniff, looking at the girl I went to high-school with. Samantha Johnson, also known as Sammie J or Sammie. It's been about seven years since I saw her, and she hasn't changed at all, except she now has ruby red tips in her hair instead of all completely black. Her eyes are a deep blue and her skin is tan, maybe from the years in the sun. Has she been in LA all this time? What about Megan and Ronnie… and Marcus.

Marcus was, and probably still is, what I like to call, a raging ball of psychotic fury. He was mine, once, a very long time ago. Even back then he was a psycho. He had severe, and I mean homicidal severe, anger management issues, almost as bad as everybody's favorite Big Red Machine. I had them too, so we seemed like a perfect match. I ended up actually acting on my tendencies though; I murdered our high-school principal and my art teacher in cold blood, writing 'Do I Fit In Now?' on the gym wall before I fled the city. Evidently I never did fit in.

I look Sammie in the eye then I look at the tall looming shadow behind her; Marcus. He's still as broody as ever; his once-spiked hair now hangs down his face as if he's just escaped from jail and his dark eyes stare intently at me. A sick smile graces his lips as he pulls Sammie into him, still eyeing me like I'm a toy. He looks to Sammie.

"You know better than to run from me, Samantha," he says, his voice thick with lust. I can tell; Kane's voice sounds like that when he's talking to Raven. Sammie looks at Marcus and grins cheekily, shrugging her shoulders.

"I know, but I like getting you frustrated when I run." She giggles cutely, pulling his head down so she can rub her nose against his. Marcus growls playfully and holds her waist.

"Twat."

Sammie glares at him.

The whole time this happens, a knot appears in my stomach that makes me feel sick to my stomach and I've felt that if I spoke, I would hurl all over my old friends. Are we even friends anymore? I don't know.

"Marcus?" I say quietly, looking at my ex. He turns his head, still keeping it on Sammie's shoulder, and looks at me. He smirks, I see the smile I fell for all those years ago; perfect, white, and straight. That bad boy smile that made all the girls, and even some of the boys, swoon.

"Well well, look whose back?" He grins at me and his eyes turn a little brighter than they were before. He seems happy to see me. "What's shakin' Sweetums?"

Sammie looks to Marcus then to me, smiling. "Hey Shannie."

I blink at her, eyes wide. What did she call me? Shannie? Like, short for Shannon? Sammie looks at me like I've started speaking gibberish, which I probably have, I don't know.

"What did you call me?" I ask her, very loudly. Marcus is the one to answer.

"Shannie. Short for Shannon. Your name."

I blink for a second. Yes, that's right. My name is Shannon. I haven't gone by that name for seven years, which is probably one of the reasons why I forgot. That and I hate the name. I'm named after my mom. And my gran, apparently. I don't know. I climb to my feet, just as Shannon, Mick and Tara come walking down the boardwalk, Tara wiping blood from her arms while Mick ties his brunette curls back. I squeal at the sight of Shannon, though I've barely known him a day, and jump at him, tackling him to the sand. He gives me a startled look and I grin at him, pressing his shoulders into the sand.

"HI!" I say, giggling afterwards. Tara laughs too, cuddling into her psycho. He raises an eyebrow and smirks.

"Hey there, little darlin'. You having fun here?" he says, putting on a North Carolina accent. And yes, I am aware that he actually IS from North Carolina. We stayed up all last night talking about it.

I bob my head. Then, like a bolt of lightning, and idea strikes me. I turn around and look at Sammie, who's still wrapped in Marcus's arms. Marcus is giving Shannon a dirty look, like he's going to pound him into oblivion. Maybe they know each other. Oh well, that's their beef.

"Yep yep!" I say, bobbing my head, a wisp of black hair falling into my eyes. He smiles and reaches up, tucking the strand back into my hair. I giggle and climb up, pulling him to his feet. He grins then looks over at Marcus and Sammie. I turn to them as well, and then I remember something about Sammie. She loves Marine Biology, and Stevie has set up shop as marine biologist. I know this because Shannon has seen someone matching his description at the Marine Biology lab on the pier. "Do you know someone named Steven Richards?"

Sammie looks at me for a second then nods her head. "Doctor Richards, the Marine Biologist who runs the lab and Aquatica."

Aquatica?

"What the hell is Aquatica?"

"Its where the mad doctor keeps his pet sharks," Marcus says, holding Sammie close. Sammie pulls away though and steps towards me.

"Are you okay, Shannie? You look like shit."

Gee, thanks Sammie. I scrunch my lips to the side then smirk, jumping in the air and smacking her in the face with a spinning heel kick, something I learned from Kane. She falls backwards into Marcus's arms and he looks at me with a scowl on his face, anger flaring up into his eyes. Kind of hot to be honest, if you'll excuse the pun. Before he can pounce on me though, Shannon pulls out a crowbar from under his hoody and aims the barbed end at the bigger man, ready to swing.

"You didn't see us," I say to Marcus. Marcus's lips twist into that cocky smirk but then he looks behind me and backs down, picking up Sammie bridal style and taking off down the beach. I turn and pounce into Kane's arms. He and Raven smile at me as I wrap my arms around Kane. What can I say; I love the big bald freak.

"Someone's happy," Kane says, matter-of-factly, holding me. I giggle, look at him, then Raven, then climb from Kane's arms and curl mine around Shannon, giving Kane my most evil look.

"I know where Stevie is."


	10. The Needs Of The Many

**Chapter Nine: The Needs of the Many**

**OR**

**Pondering**

**A.N: This is double length because I've been overloaded with moving out and trying to get internet at my new house. Hehe, forgive me?**

RAVEN'S POV

Upon hearing the news that Doctor Stevie had been found, my head starts having a war with itself. On one side of the coin we have the fact that we can finally end his pathetic existence and move on. On the other side we have lack of hunting for Sandman. I know it's selfish but the man murdered my sister. He needs to die! The world would be a better place without him in it!

We get back to the hotel at around four-ish after Kane and I do a round of the city. We find three likely places Stevie would go; the lab, which is obvious, a nightclub called the Star De Lune and the hospital, since he is a doctor. The Star De Lune is apparently owned by Mark's daughter, April, and Mark told Kane that Stevie frequents it, and has since he came to Los Angeles.

Lounging on the couch watching Tara and Mick cuddle makes me want to jump my lover, the only problem is, he's more worried about finding Stevie. Is it just me or does Kane worry more about Stevie then he does me, and Cam for that matter? I can't remember the last time he held our adopted son, played with him. Maybe a year ago, when he wasn't so crabby about all this Stevie bullshit. Don't get me wrong, I want Stevie dead too; he's caused all of us (excluding Tara and Cam) nothing but grief. But Sandman, to me, is a bigger threat. He can kill in anyway, not just with needles, and he can strike at any time, anywhere.

By the time the sun has set, Daffney, Mick and Shannon have gone to bed (home for Shannon), and I've retreated to the balcony of the room Kane and I have occupied to stare at the stars in the night sky. It's a beautiful night in Los Angeles, and the full moon sits high in the sky. The moon, to me, is a beacon. A beacon of hope. It's a beautiful thing, that big yellow ball. It makes me feel insignificant, but for me that's comforting. Being insignificant is how I am usually; I put others before myself. Cam, Kane, Daffney… they're my world, and I put them first.

"Hope I'm not interrupting a deep thought."

I turn and smile slightly as Tara steps out onto the balcony, her red and black hair tied up in pig-tails. Mick likes it when she acts childish, even if there is a twenty-five year age gap between them. I mean there's six between Kane and myself, but whoa. It's like cradle-robbing for those two. But they love each other, so it's okay… I guess.

"No, I'm just… thinking," I say, giving her a smile. She gives me a small smile in return and comes over, hoisting herself up onto the balcony railing. She pats my shoulder and grins, her smile lighting up her face. She truly is happy; in fact, I've never seen her so happy. Since she and Mick started their relationship, and took it to the next level by becoming engaged, I've never seen her cry. Mick makes her happy, and I can see that she makes him happy. I think they're perfect for each other, but what do I know; I can't seem to make any relationship work anymore…

"Don't think too much," Tara says, cutely poking me in the side. I let out a grunt and my lip twitches, threatening to go into a smile but I don't crack; I'm too depressed over this Sandman thing. Its driving me even more insane and I feel like my brain is gonna pop. "It'll put you in a bad mood."

She giggles at her own joke and pats my hand, then running her fingers up to my cheek. I close my eyes as her soft fingers graze my skin. Don't get any ideas either; Tara is like my sister. I'd take a bullet for her, because I love her, but I'm not _in _love with her. That made more sense in my head… anyway.

Tara's head turns and she climbs from the balcony, going back inside. I drop my head, but open my eyes as I hear voices, and one of the voices is one I know better then anything else in the world.

"Watch yourself," is the voice of Tara. I hear a grunt and then a gruff response.

"Don't worry, he's the one that's gonna get it."

I close my eyes again and rest my head against my arms. I feel a large hand on my shoulder and know my big red freak has joined me. I turn my head to look at him and instantly shrink.

Kane is glaring daggers at me, but there is a tiny hint of passion behind his eyes. I blink a few times then turn my head to look at the city below. It's huge, and quite beautiful, especially at night. Kane's hand drops and I know he's crossed his arms; its what he does. I raise my head and look out at the ocean, concentrating at that serene dream that is Venice Beach, the most beautiful stretch of beach in the world. Kane grunts beside me.

"What crawled up your ass and died?" he says, grabbing my shoulder and forcing me to look at him. I look into his mis-matched eyes and see anger, flared by my disappearing act I pulled during the day.

"Nothing; I just want some time by myself."

"The only way you'll get time by yourself around here is if you get carted out of this hotel in a body bag," is Kane's response and I glare at him. That's lovely, coming from the man who supposedly loves me. He told me three years ago he loved me, but I still question to this day if he really meant it. I doubt it. He's a cruel, heartless, soulless man who I should never have tangled with to begin with. He's brought me nothing but grief. Normality is something that we can never have because nothing about our relationship is normal! Everything is wrong!

"Why did I know you were gonna say that?"

"Because you know me better then anyone?"

I glare at him. "Do I?"

Kane forces me up against the railing of the balcony and stares into my eyes, a sick glare coming across them. I've seen that once before, and I never want to see it again.

"And what, my dear Raven, is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, oh dear Kane, that I barely know you, you're like a stranger to me."

Kane blinks, willing me to continue. I take a deep breath and go; this is gonna hurt me more then it will him.

"You've become completely obsessed with hunting down Stevie and dismembering him, limb by limb. You don't seem to care about us anymore. What happened to the man who wanted to raise Cameron with me? Huh? What happened to the man who wanted to get rid of all the bad in the world so our son could have a better future? You've changed, and I don't like the man you've changed into. You hide things from me, you never listen, and you constantly ignore me as if I don't mean anything to you anymore. What happened to you?"

Kane is silent for a few seconds; I don't think it dawned on him just how serious the problem has gotten. And it's not just these past two days that's been destroying us, oh no. It's been going on for months. Months and months and months of non-stop torture. There are those brief moments of paradise where we give ourselves to each other between the sheets, but they're few and far between. And getting even rarer.

"You think I'm obsessed?"

I glare at him.

"That's all you have to say!? After that little rant that's all you have to say?! Are you fucking mental?! Are you unable to process that much information?!"

For some strange reason, I grab his shoulders and push him away. This stuns him for a second and then that angry fire flares to the surface again and he lunges for my throat. I see this coming and bob down, weaving under his arm. My days in ECW when I used to volunteer for Paul Heyman (while being locked in a mental asylum mind you) come back to me and I use my shoulders to block Kane from using his arms, driving my knee into his stomach. This winds him for a second and he drops to the ground. I bound from the balcony and back inside, knowing Kane will follow me.

"SCOTT!"

The sound of my real name jolts me and I stop for a second and this gives Kane a chance to catch up to me. He grabs my hair and drives me into the wall. The reason behind my stopping was Kane only ever calls me Scott when he's mad at me, or completely and utterly horny. Its probably both, now that I'm thinking about it. Pain turns him on, the sick fuck.

I'm stunned for just a moment, before twisting my head in a way that should have caused me agonizing pain; instead, all I feel is rage. "Is this what you want?" I whisper to him, watching as some of the fire dims from his eyes, "To break me into as many pieces as you feel you've been broken into?" I grab a hold of his hand, ignoring the throbbing of his pulse under my finger tips; I use all my energy to wrench it away from my head. The movement stings, but he's hesitating now and I know if I stop for even a second he will regain control. "This isn't going to fix you, Kane; it's only breaking you more."

Kane forces me back against the wall, and that fire he had before rages again. I whine as my neck muscles pull, and his fingers dig into my scalp, pulling my hair. I wonder if he knows how much he's hurting me. Is he so much of a sociopath that he can't even tell if he's hurting someone or not?

"What if I'm broken beyond repair, what then, my dear, deluded Raven? What if I don't want to be fixed?"

"Then we're through."

This must stun him because he pulls away. Stepping back to the middle of the room, a confused expression crosses his face, and he looks away, a dark expression in his eyes. I smirk a little and turn away, rubbing my head. This is what he deserves; a harsh slap from reality. He needs to know this isn't right; becoming obsessed with something so trivial as Stevie and neglecting everything else in his world won't help him, only make him worse.

Before Kane can say anything, I grab my leather jacket and leave the room, too many conflicting emotions running through my system for me to care about anything else but my solitude.

~X~

KANE'S POV

Who does that little rat bastard think he is, my brother? I may have done some stupid things in the past, but I'm a different man now, I've changed. Can he not see that? Once Stevie is gone, everything will go back to the way it was; Tara and Mick will get married and live together, and maybe raise a family of their own, Daffney will most likely end up with Shannon and end up taking off with him, and Raven and I can raise Cam together, in a house by the beach. He'd like that. The free, open air would help him. But the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one.

My rage eventually bubbles over and I pull my pocket knife from my back pocket, flicking it open. The blade sparkles slightly in the dim light and I stare at it. I raise it so I can see my reflection in the blade. A monster stares back, a monster that Raven doesn't love anymore.

"Glenn."

I turn to face the door and my blood boils slightly, not that it could much more after that little spat with Raven.

Mark, my half-brother and the man who made me the freak that I am, looks back at me, his green eyes staring intently into my soul. He's picked up a few magic tricks since I last saw him, and his 'Soul Search' power is the one he's using now. Me being me though, I put up a mental barrier so he can't read anything. This obviously pisses him off because he grunts and leans against the door frame.

"How did you get in here?" I ask, flinging my knife at him. He raises a hand and stops it mid-air, using the powers he picked up from Satan herself, his mistress Serenity.

I'll fill you in a bit I think. When Mark and I were kids, he set fire to the funeral home we lived, in, killing our mother, his father and burning me. I grew up a scarred and fractured kid, not having any friends until I met Raven. Mark on the other hand, died in the fire but made a deal with the she-Devil, Serenity, and he got all these little prizes, including immortality. But he had to pay the price, and the price was his soul. Three years ago, not long after we kidnapped him (mwahaha), Mark, surprisingly, asked for my help in saving his ass from Serenity when she came to collect. Took her thirty-five years, but she came and boy did she come. She ended up falling in love with the bastard and so he's immortal again, with a few added bonuses. I had to save his ass last year too, when the Titan God of Brutality, Tidus, escaped his prison in Hell.

Enough about that Jack-ass.

"Tara let me in," Mark says flatly, taking my knife in his fingers and closing it. I growl at him then flop down onto the bed. My brain has started hurting like crazy, and having my bastard brother here isn't helping.

"Figures. Is he still out there?" If Mark doesn't know who I'm talking about he's fucking stupid.

"Yep. Didn't look too happy. And my three guesses are; it has something to do with you, Sandman or Stevie."

I smirk; smart-ass. He read his mind.

"All three. He thinks I'm obsessed with finding Stevie and tearing him apart, not worried about Sandman and me being a dick." I sit up and stare at my brother. There are those rare moments when we get along, and when we do we cause mayhem and destruction no matter where we are, which is what I like about him. He's up for carnage, as long as I leave his family alone, which has grown by three the last time I checked. He now has nine children, including James Lawson's now-outcast nephew, Cooper. Anymore and he'll be able to repopulate the country.

Mark smiles and crosses his arms, flexing his muscles at me. I cock an eyebrow at him and he blinks.

"You kind of are, if you think about it."

I growl and go to stand, but he raises a hand, telling me he has something to add. He better have a good excuse for agreeing with Raven, or I'm going to kick his teeth down his throat.

"You're obsessed, because Stevie did you wrong. I did you wrong, but are you obsessed with killing me?"

I smirk. "You have your uses."

"See? Stevie really has no use other then getting on your everlasting nerves."

"Raven gets on my nerves all the time, but I don't want to kill him."

Mark raises an eyebrow, the same smirk I have on my face crossing his. I roll my eyes.

"Shut up, Mark. Are you living through this? Are you having to deal with your girlfriend or wife as the case may be-" he's married to a woman named Michelle, but has Serenity on the side "-being the biggest pain in the rectum then anyone else in the world?"

"Eh, I have to deal with Xander." He laughs, and I roll my eyes again.

"The point of this lecture was?"

"Take a break. You've been hunting for Sandman, Stevie and everyone else since you broke out. Take a few days to just chill-out. You and Raven should come to the club tonight." He grins and winks at me. "My treat."

I take a second to think. That doesn't actually sound like a bad idea. Having a few beers, listening to music and just chilling out for a little while doesn't sound bad at all. He's right, too, I have been hunting my enemies for too long, maybe I should take a chill-pill and calm the fuck down for a while.

The trick is convincing Raven.

~X~

RAVEN'S POV

Why am I not surprised that Mark is here? He always seems to know when Kane and I fight. Well, he is psychic, and sleeping with the she-devil. Eh. The perks of being dead, I guess.

I'm just putting Cam down in his bed in Daffney's room when I hear a light knock on the door. I turn and spy Mick in the doorway, his hair pulled back in a fluffy pony-tail. He's looking much happier then he used to, and I'm happy for him. His life can only get better.

"Feeling any better?"

I shrug, rubbing my almost-four son's head. He smiles in his sleep and turns over, facing away from me. I smile and turn away, looking at Mick. "I wish it was like the old days."

Mick raises an eyebrow, and gestures for me to join him in the living room. I follow after him and head into the spacious area, flopping down on the sofa. He sits across from me.

"When you say the old days…?"

"I mean when we weren't on the run, when we didn't have to wage war with the entire world and expect to win. When Kane…"

I really don't have to say the rest of that sentence for Mick to understand. _When Kane still loved me._

"Mark thinks you and Kane should go with him to the nightclub downtown, to cool off," Mick says bluntly, leaning back on the sofa. It's almost nine at night, and Daffney has crashed early, while Tara is in the kitchen. That doesn't sound like a bad idea, but…

"Will Kane be agro?" I ask. Mick goes to answer but he's cut off.

"No, he won't be."

I turn around to see Mark standing in the entry arch with Kane, but Kane has changed his shirt. He's now wearing a dark blue button up shirt, with the top two buttons un-done. He actually looks pretty good.

"Mark, how can we go out when the whole city is looking for us? We'll be spotted and reported."

Mark smiles and taps his nose, winking at me before heading out the door with Kane in tow. Before Kane leaves completely, he throws me a look that says he's sorry, but that he won't push it. Then he follows after Mark.

I throw a look to Mick and he nudges his head in the direction of the door. Before I can say anything in protest, a set of tanned arms wrap around my shoulders and squeeze. I turn my head to find Tara looking at me, looking beautiful as always. Her hair, in pig-tails not too long ago, now hangs in thick curls near the base of her shoulders. I swear she has hair extensions or something because her hair changes lengths like the fucking wind. Instead of wearing the Alice-esque dress she was wearing before, she's now wearing a pair of black, stone-wash jeans and a red t-shirt that shows off her boobies. She climbs into the seat next to me.

"Take Marky up on his offer, Ravie," she says, her arm around my shoulders.

"Tara's right, Raven," Mick says. I turn to look at him. He smiles. "Spending a night out on the town with Glenn might help you guys sort out whatever is causing the rift between you."

Tara bobs her head excitedly. I sigh.

I suppose it couldn't hurt.

~X~

KANE'S POV

I hate people.

For the record, I hate some more then most, like Stevie, but I despise people. They really drive me crazy. Some make me want to gouge out my own eyeballs, but some, like my dear Raven, make me weep for humanity.

Mark takes us to this little club in downtown L.A called the Star De Lune, the same club Stevie frequents. I had no idea he was into cocktails. As soon as we walk in, I get the impression it's a Nightclub, which I think it is, but I realize soon after it's a cocktail bar. Mark, followed by myself with Raven pulling up the rear, heads over to the main bar where a guy with black hair with frosted white tips is making a martini. We sit down at the stools and Mark orders three beers. The guy grins and I instantly get the impression Mark frequents this club too.

"What brings you here tonight, Mark?" asks the bartender as he puts our drinks down. Mark smirks and takes a swig.

"Hi, Xander. I figured my little brother could use a drink."

Xander looks at me and raises an eyebrow.

Before we came to the bar, Mark waved his hand over mine and Raven's hands. Two marks kinda like stars but pierced with a lightening bolt appeared on our wrists and then faded into nothing. Glamours, from what he explained, hide our true visage from the human eye and those either told about it or were there to witness the event can see through it. Another nifty little trick he picked up from Serenity I suppose.

"Interesting glamour," he says, eyeing me suspiciously. He then looks to Mark. "Is my lovely wife aware that her serial killer uncle is in L.A?" he asks and I almost spit my drink everywhere. I turn to Mark whose grinning at me.

"Does everyone in this damn city know I'm your brother?!" I growl lowly, putting my glass down as Xander picks it up, wipes the bar then puts it back down. Efficient.

"Not everyone," Mark says, taking a swig of his beer and grins at me. "Only anyone I don't want you to…" he makes a cut-throat motion and I smirk.

Beside me I feel Raven twitch and I turn to face him. His eyes aren't on me however; they're on the front door. I turn to face where he's looking and almost fall off my chair.

Walking in the front door with my son-in-law and an ex of mine is Doctor Stevie Richards. He's wearing a blue button up shirt, a pair of black slacks. He still has that ridiculous pony-tail. I have to stifle my laughter and turn around.

Raven taps my shoulder and I look at him. "What's up?"

"What do we do about Stevie? Since we know where he is and all."

I look back at Stevie as he sits down beside Amy, my ex who left me for that no good double crossing asshole named Adam, and Phil, the man who married my daughter, Morgan. He has his arm around Amy and is laughing as a very cute red-headed waitress brings them drinks. My head tilts as he leans in close to Amy and Phil rolls his eyes.

I turn back to Raven.

"We leave him be."

Raven blinks at me and raises an eyebrow.

"Here's my line of thinking; if we go after him now, this club will be filled to the brim with cops in about five minutes. If we wait and strike when he's least expecting it, we'll get away scot-free." I grin and finish off my drink. Mark smiles next to me but it isn't one of those cocky smirks its one of those very rare 'you're doing the right thing' smirks. Raven on the other hand looks like I've smacked him one.

"Let him have his fun while it lasts. In the meantime-" I put my glass down and get up, grabbing my coat. Raven watches me and I grab his hand, pulling him to his feet. "We have some… issues to take care of." I wink and drag him from the bar.

I may be an asshole, but damn I'm charming.


	11. Secret Dreams

**Chapter Ten: Secret Dreams**  
**OR**

**Confessions**

TARA'S POV

I'm sitting in the living room of the penthouse, waiting patiently for Raven and Kane to return. Mick is in the kitchen making hot chocolate while Daffney is still snoozing away in the bedroom with Cam. He's restless, I can tell by the way his shoulders are tight, and the way he holds himself. This is troubling for me as I love him very much, and its unsettling when he's upset.

"Mick," I say. His head jerks slightly to the side, as if to idicate he's listening, but I know its because I startled him. He turns completely to look at me and cocks his head, a dazed look in his eyes. "Are you alright, love?"

"Children."

I look at him puzzled and he comes to sit next to me. "What?"

"I want to have children. But I just realised something."

"And what's that?"

"I don't know you."

I blink. Doesn't... know me? What? How...? How is that possible that he doesn't know me? We've been together for three years, we're fucking engaged for crying out loud! There isn't anything he doesn't know about me and I him. What the actual fuck?!

"What do you mean?" I ask rationally, keeping my voice as calm as possible. He stares at me.

"The ammount of times we've changed our names to hide, I realised that you never did tell me your real name."

I blush. He's right; I never did tell him my name. I never told anyone, the only ones who know are my family, my sisters and my Dad. Hell, I've changed my name that many times I don't even think I know my own name now. That's a...weird... revelation to be having in this day and age, especially considering our jobs almost over and we're getting married soon. If we get out of this alive I might actually have to legally change my name to Tara, or Victoria.

"How did you figure my name isn't Tara?" I ask, my voice seductive and laced with temptation. I lean back and look at him over my thick, hooded eyelids. I smirk cutely and he raises an eyebrow. running a hand through his hair and leaning back in the seat, he returns my grin.

"I've known Kane for years, Tar, and whenever he refers to you when I speak with him alone, he refers to you as 'the Waitress formerly known as Tara', indicating to me that isn't your real name." He smiles as I frown. "Slap me if I'm wrong."

I want to slap him but he's telling the truth. My real name isn't Tara, nor is it Victoria. They're names I chose for myself after my mother got out on parole; she murdered my older brother because she didn't like the woman he married, Amelia. I chose Tara because its inconspicuous, she doesn't know it. That and I find it really pretty.

He grins at my silence and takes my hand. "If we're going to be husband and wife, I need to know everything about you, the good, the bad, and the ugly."

I bite my lip and he stares at me. I shake my head; I'd prefer no one knew. No one at all. Not even him.

He gets up and walks back to the kitchen, showing me he's mad at me. I frown and hang my head, That did not go according to plan.

But, when does anything ever?

~X~

MANKIND'S POV

Having children with Tara right now seems like a really bad idea. Don't get me worng, I love her, I love her very much, but this name thing is really starting to get on my nerves. For example, Kane's real, real name is Glenn Thomas Jacob Calaway, but he dropped the name Calaway, and changed his last name to Jacobs in favor of hiding from his brother and starting again. My real name is Michael James Foley, but I go by Mick because its easier to say, and easier to remember. Tara didn't even tell me her last name for crying out loud. I would like to know her maiden name if she's going to be my wife.

I wander into Cam and Daffney's room, where Daffney is fast asleep. Heh, there's another name that has pissed me off to no end; Daffney. The way she spells it, and the way she introduces herself. 'Daffney, just Daffney.' Is Daffney her real name? I don't know. Does she have a last name? I don't know. I'd like to know, but it's not really my place to ask.

I lean against the doorway and watch baby Cam sleep. He's really a cute kid. With his red hair, freckles and toothy grin, he's an incredibly cute kid. I'd adopt him, if he wasn't afraid of me majority of the time. I think it's my hair; its curly and boofy and... blegh. I hate my hair. I hate how I look, but what can I do? I'm missing two and a half (yes you read that right; a half) teeth and part of my right ear, making me kind of hideous. Tara doesn't seem to mind but... hmm. Oh well, there's not a lot I can do about that.

Cam's name doesn't really bug me, and neither does Raven's. Before Cam was adopted by Kane and Raven, his name was Cameron David Funk, as it said on his birth certificate (which we turned into ash) but after he became Cameron Anthony Jacobs-Levy (because Kane demands he go first-narcissist). Raven's real name is Scott Anthony Levy, and he hasn't changed it, to my knowledge. I think he had a brief, if not humurous, run as Scotty Flamingo but we laughed him out of it.

Cam turns over in his sleep and murmurs, holding his teddy closer to him. I go over and procede to tuck him in properly.

"Foley..."

I turn and spy Daffney sitting up, her hair ruffled and crazy, just like her. She has red rings around her eyes and bruising, meaning she's been tossing and turning all night. Poor thing. And NO before you ask, I do not have romantic feelings for Daffney anymore. That happened a long time ago.

"Hey, kiddo," I say quietly, trying not to wake Cam. I sit down next to her on the bed. She smiles and rubs my shoulder.

"Why so glum, chum?" she says, keeping her voice low. I smile.

"I don't know Tara's real name."

She raises an eyebrow at me and smirks. "So?"

"It's weird for me, she's gonna be my wife you know."

"I'm aware. Put it this way, Mickles, you don't know my real name either."

I smirk and laugh a little, rubbing her head. "That's true."

"And we're friends, right?"

"Yep."

"So what's the problem with not knowing Tara's name? I like the name Tara, it suits her, and I think you don't need to know someone's name to love them."

I look at her. How the fuck did she become so philosophical?

As if to answer my un-asked question, she grins and pokes me. "I'm smarter then you think, Mickles."

I grin and pull her in for a hug. "I love ya, kid."

"I know." She pulls away and reaches up to rub under my eye, where a bit of make-up from her eyes has smudged. "Tara will tell you when she's ready. Just give her time."

"Lisa."

We both look up to see Tara standing in the doorway, biting her lip.

"What?" I say to her, raising an eyebrow. Daffney giggles and gets up out of her bed, heading out the door.

"Lisa. My name. It's Lisa. Lisa Marie Varon." She stares at me as if I'm going to yell at her, but I stand and pull her into my arms. I giggles softly and cuddles into my, her arms curling tight around my waist. I grin and pat her hair, holding her tight. She still smells of Kiwi and Lime, the beautiful woman.

"I love you, Lisa Marie Varon, and I always will."

"I love you more, Michael James Foley, to eternity and back," she says.

"That's freaking adorable, that is."

We oth turn and find Raven and Kane staring at us from the living room. Kane grins at me and grabs Raven's shoulder. Raven flinches away and smiles at us. Kane frowns and rolls his eyes, choosing wisely to bite his tongue. He meanders off to their bedroom while Raven goes and sits down with Daffney. I look down at my fiance.

"Well that was awkward," I say. She giggles.

I love this woman.


	12. Master Plan 1: Stevie and Phil

**Chapter Eleven: Master Plan #1: Stevie & Phil**

**OR **

**Danger Lurks In Every Corner**

**A.N: Because its Stevie and Phil's master plan, it will be twice as long. Enjoy their idiocy in trying to deal with my pets.  
KM.N: I am not a pet!  
A.N: Be quiet Kane.  
KM.N: Bite me  
A.N: -face-palm- You do my biding, so you are a PET! As is your bitch.  
KM.N: -scowls- bitch -goes back to whatever he was doing-**

STEVIE'S POV

Phil coughs beside me as we speed our way to Aquatica. Its my lab, eight-hundred miles into the Pacific, away from prying eyes. Its cold depths are the only temperature that's correct that can hold my favourite beast. I'll write this here I think: note; rewrite entry about Mamasita being the biggest fish this side of Long Island. Our newest 'inmate' of my aquatic asylum happens to be bigger. And appropriately named as well; Goliath. He's a 40 foot behemoth designed for two things: eating and making baby sharks. Phil has yet to see my new pet so this should be interesting.

"I hate being sea-sick," Phil says over the roar of the waves. He's just hurled his guts up over the side of the boat. I grin; Amy gets sea-sick too.

"Don't worry, partner, we're almost there. Just a few more clicks," I shout back, spying my home away from home on the horizon.

"I fucking hope so!"

I grin and we cruise for the next few minutes before pulling into the depot of my lab. Leila and Taylor, two of our lab technicians, come over to tie up the boat. I help Phil climb from the boat and grin.

"Too much speed for one Doctor to handle?" I ask, smirk on my face. Taylor hands me my lab-coat and my clipboard and I head into the lab.

"I work with the insane, Stevie, not fish," he says back, taking his guest pas from Leila and following me. "It's no-wonder they call you the Mad Doctor."

"I am not insane," I reply as we step into the elevator The doors slide closed behind us and we slip down. I look to Phil whose giving me a questioning stare. "My mother had me tested."

Phil rolls his eyes as the elevator comes to a stop. He's confused when the doors don't open and I grin. There's a bell and a woman's voice comes over the P.A

"_Good morning, Doctor Richards. How are we this chilly June morning?"_

I grin. "Just fine, Tori," I reply. "A little cold but that'll change when I see my baby."

"_Ahh parenthood. Doesn't it make you all warm and fuzzy?"_ Tori, our radio-DJ/Helicopter Pilot, says as the elevator jerks back to life. She was waiting for me to tell her where I was going, and because I've known Tori for years, she knew what I meant by my baby.

"Sooner or later I'll be sending him to college and I'll be all by myself again," I say, having a chirpy conversation with her. Phil, smartly, stays silent, because he has no idea what I'm on about. Good. The less he knows about my experiments, the better.

As the elevator comes to a stop and pings open, Tori giggles behind her mic in the tower. _"Good luck on Friday, Doctor Richards."_

"In my experience, Tori, there's no such thing as luck." We step from the elevator and into the lab.

On each wall of the large room are screens and machines that monitor heart rate, vitals and blood-pressure on my baby, while there are needles and serums lining three different cabinets. Up a small set of stairs is a large window that shows the lagoon behind the lab. My mammoth pet swims past and appears to wink at me as I start up the machines, but I know Goliath is just on patrol, searching for his breakfast. In the center of the room is the loading zone for when we pull brain stem-cells and blood from Goliath. Due to his size, he doesn't really notice, but he's a smart fish; he'll turn eventually.

"What in God's creation...?" Phil says, looking around at the state-of-the-art lab.

"Nah, not God's." he turns to look at me on top of the steps, staring down at him from behind a console. I hear Goliath move behind me and grin; I must look so fucking creepy. "Mine." I let out an ironic evil laugh and turn away. I love messing with him.

~X~

PHIL'S POV

Stevie has got to be the creepiest Man I know. Its like he's not even human sometimes. Like, I know he's a genius when it comes to break-through procedures for the mentally handicapped and in Bio-chemistry, but he's insane. He's an insane, needle-happy, genius man with two doctorates.

I step up beside him and stare at his 'baby', Goliath. He's huge. He swims past at almost lightening speed, but I still catch a glimpse of him; with a streamline body and markings that camouflage him from his prey, he is a perfect killing machine. Much like our big friend with a machete and a grudge.

"So, we're going to hide here from Kane and his friends?" I ask, sitting down on one of the chairs. He turns and ticks something off his clipboard. Smiling, he rolls his eyes, and pushes a button on the com.

"Tori, can you please let me know when Doctor Dumas arrives?" he asks the tower.

"_Will do, Doctor Richards. Her jetski is inbound now; she shouldn't be longer then twenty-five minutes tops."_

"Thank you." He turns back to me. "No, we're working for the day, then heading back to the coast. There is no point in hiding and not getting my work done; considering my work _involves_ Kane and his friends."

I blink. "It does?"

"Oh yes. Mako sharks are much like Serial Killers in the respect that they are docile until provoked. Kane has clearly been provoked. I'm not entirely sure what I've done but, you know him; he's as full of rage as anyone I know, if not the most." He puts his clipboard down and leans over a console to type into it.

Beams of light break through over Goliath's lagoon as the hatch at the top opens up. I can now see him clearly as he swims past at a slower pace, obviously devouring his lunch. He's huge, spanning at least forty feet, with dark stripes down his top and pure white down his stomach and the end of his tail. His tall dorsal fin stands tall as he slips through the water, virtually unnoticed by the other occupants in his habitat. He is incredibly intimidating.

"I can understand that, but why? You worked with Raven, Kane and Mick for so long, you should know what they're like."

Stevie looks down and shakes his head. "Phil, I take brain-stem samples and blood from Goliath to fuel my latest experiment. He is a viscous killer, nothing more then a prehistoric murderer. Kane has the same characteristics. I will compare the similarities and find a way to make Kane more docile or I will die trying." He looks at me.

"If Kane has his way you _will_ die trying," I emphasize the will because Kane is nothing if not determined to end Stevie's existence.

Stevie comes over to me and puts his hands on the console behind me, pinning me in. He leans in close, thus freaking me right the fuck out, and whispers menacingly, "When my experiment is over, I will be closer to God then any mere mortal has ever dreamed of."

I always knew he had a God complex.

~X~

STEVIE'S POV

After we finish our Job at Aquatica and wait for Amy, we head back to shore and to my new hospital. The St Michael Memorial Hospital was closed in 1998 due to the psychiatric floor burning the entire hospital down. Rumor has it that the Hospital is haunted, another one is that its condemned but either way, its the perfect place to reopen my hospital. The Arch-Angel for the Mentally Handicapped will live again.

I agree to meet Phil there because I need to grab something from my apartment. Once I have retrieved my item, I drive to the hospital and smile up at it. Its perfect. Blue-stone architecture with a pointed roof and gargoyles on the arch-ways. Its morbid, gothic in design and has the reputation for catering to the insane.

I walk in through the doors, big ornate double doors, and am instantly overcome with the sheer power of the presence of this hospital.

It's filled with dead terror and stale tears. How many people have breathed their last while lying in the small beds? How many had spent their final nights in those tiny rooms, sleeping fitfully while their nightmares rampaged across the landscapes of their minds? When I walk these halls, I felt I could count them all.

The psychiatric ward is the best. Here, even with my 'paranoid delusions' (as Phil says), I can sense the echoes of fear, madness and desperation. With my overly-analytical mind, these echoes soak into me, making me stronger. This will be the perfect place for my hospital for the mentally fragmented to be re-opened, to breakdown the borders between realities. Now all I need is the funding itself, but that won't be a problem. For all my flashes of rage and my own demons, because let's face it we all have them, I am a Doctor first and foremost. True I've suffered a set-back in Carson City with the escape of the world's most famous Serial Killer, but I already have a plan to rectify that situation, especially now that Kane, Raven, Mick, Tara and Daffney are in L.A

I slip my newly acquired key-card into the slot and key in my code. The door slips open and I step into what will be my Procedure Room. Against the wall is a metal slab, thick chains hanging from thick metal loops. Standing next to said slab is Phil, with his hair tied back, instead of down like it was at Aquatica. In his Killswitch-Engage t-shirt, stone-wash jeans and sneakers, he certainly doesn't look like a fully-qualified forensic psychologist. But he is one of the best in his field, and I will work with no one else. He turns and looks at me.

"We're in the basement of an abandoned hospital, and you have chains on the wall," he says, staring at me. "Why do I get the feeling this is part of your experiment?"

I smile. "Because it is."

"How blunt."

I sigh and put the item I retrieved into the cabinet and lock it. Its a needle, four times bigger then the ones I used on Chris, and filled with the results of the tests I did on Goliath; Hypercentridexamphetimine. Also known as Rage-Be-Gone. Kane's rage will swell, then break, then dissipate. For good. The perfect sedative for a man who can't be sedated.

"The chains are for Kane when I get him here. And I'm gonna need your help for that." I sit down on my chair and he looks at me, questioning look on his face.

"How exactly are you going to get him here?"

"Who do we know that Kane has a connection with? A _biological_ connection."

I pause for emphasis and he thinks for a second, but because he's so damn clever, it clicks almost instantly.

"No way, nah uh, no fucking way!" He steps away from the slab and runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated. He then turns back to me, anger pulsing through his eyes. "You can't ask me to do that, Stevie. I _will not_ put my family in danger to put that deranged killer on your leash! There is no fucking way!"

I sigh. I knew he'd react this way. "It's the only way. She's the only one who can convince him that being the guinea pig for new experiment is the right thing to do."

"He's a serial _killer_, Stevie! He murders people for fun! He doesn't care who he hurts in the process! He murdered his own father! You really think he won't murder his own _daughter?!_"

"Morgan's a cop."

"A good cop. She won't do you any favors Stevie."

"She will if you ask her."

Phil turns away from me and I try to gauge his reaction.

~X~

PHIL'S POV

He is out of his mind. If he thinks I'm going to call my wife so she can arrest Kane, he is out of his god-damn, God-Complex mind! There is no way.

"No. I'm not doing you any favors if it means getting my wife killed. I have _children_ to keep safe as well, Richards." I look at the slab and imagine Kane in the shackles, my wife's blood smeared over his face as he laughs. I close my eyes and shake with despair and rage. If I lose Morgan, Nissy and Gabe, I will have lost everything.

"Sacrifices need to be made for the greater good." He is so calm when I turn to face him, like he'd rehearsed this.

"Greater Good my ass! This is for your own gain and you know it! I WILL NOT LET HER DIE FOR YOUR STUPID EXPERIMENT!"

He stands and goes to speak again but I throw a metal tray at him.

"NO! You have finally reached the breaking point! All the experiments you used at the asylum; _forcing_ insomnia on Scott, feeding Daffney with drugs so she forgot everything she knew! And the things you did to Mick." I run a hand over my face as he stares at me. He's so fucking calm, even though a strand of his hair has fallen free from its pony-tail. "Everything you did in that damn hell-hole were for you and your sick games. No more." I look him square in the eyes, remove my coat and drop my keycard onto the table. "No...more." He stares at me, his eyes showing confusion. "You will lose, Stevie. Kane will find a way to derail your train of chaos and _you will lose._"

And I leave the room, rage filling my body.

Fucking asshole will die if Kane has anything to say about it.


	13. It's All Fun & Games

**Chapter Twelve: It's All Fun & Games**

**OR**

**Artificial Paradise**

**A.N: Warning, this chapter contains mild drug use and adult themes. Reader discretion is advised.  
A.N.2: Thank you to Neptune for the name of Shannon's bong xD Yes I hang out with stoners, it doesn't mean I am one. I just like watching them when they're blazed, it's funny. They get the munchies so quickly. Lol. Anyway, enjoy!**

DAFFNEY'S POV

As I'm reading a magazine in the living room of the penthouse, I hear a noise behind me and turn, my hand instantly going to the pocket knife on my lap. I put it down as I realize it's just Cammie, juice box in hand.

"Auntie Daffy," he says, sucking on the straw. I grin and close my magazine, hoisting him onto the sofa when he comes around. He removes the straw from his mouth and grins at me, a big toothy grin. I can't help but smile back, and I'm not known for my smiles these days. "I heard you crying last night," he says, patting my cheek. "Don't cry again, please. I don't like it when you cry."

I smile softly and kiss his tiny palm. He's almost four and completely adorable. Even if he is the son of two psychos. I hope Kane and Raven have more kids though, I think Cammie's a bit lonely.

"I'm sorry if I made you upset, Cammie-cub," I say, ruffling his beautiful, red curls. He looks at me like he's going to cry but he reaches up and hugs me. I wrap my arms around him and the flood gates open again. I bawl into his shoulder and his tiny arms hug me tighter.

I don't mean to be this way around him, I really don't. I just can't help it. My nightmares about Chris have gotten worse, and much more vivid. He's strapped to a bench top, and Stevie is standing over him, holding a huge needle with deep-red liquid. He always turns to face me and screams out my name and I try to help him but every time I run to him, he gets further and further out of my grasp.

And that's usually when I wake up to the sound of my own screams.

Hey, they don't call me the Scream Queen for nothing.

Cam pats my face as he pulls away slightly. "Do you want to play a game?"

I giggle; the little four-year old sounds like Jigsaw from the Saw movies. He's so cute, even when he's trying to sound evil.

I tap his nose gently with my finger and this inadvertently makes him giggle, so I rub my nose against his and tickle him. As he slips down onto his back and giggles so much I think he might wet himself, the elevator dings and I look over, spotting Shannon ruffling his hair. Cam jumps up at the sound and Shannon instantly freezes, knowing that Cam is probably going to jump on him. I giggle and flop back onto the arm of the sofa, watching the little ginger and the blonde punk stare each other down.

Shannon grins and bobs his eyebrows at Cam, while Cam folds his arms over his chest.

"Don't hurt Auntie Ducky," he says, his voice all serious. I chuckle at first then I can't help but laugh at the confused look on Shannon's face.

"I… had no plan to…" He says, that puzzled look still plastered to his adorable face.

Cam bobs his head, as if he's triumphant in his quest to protect me, and he climbs off the sofa and waddles off into the kitchen, a tiny bit of a skip in his step. I laugh and Shannon comes over and hands me what appears to be a baggy of green tea, but I know exactly what it is.

"I hear you've been having trouble sleeping," he says, smug smirk on his smug little face. I look at the baggy then look at him.

"And this is going to help me, how?" I say, looking back up at him. His eyes are quite glazed over, like he's off with the fairies. I grin a little; he's blazed already.

He jumps over the back of the sofa and lands with a thud in the corner, perfectly placed and comfortable.

"Contrary to popular belief, Marijuana-" he says it with a Mexican accent, like Tijuana "-is actually a wonderful sleep medication." He snorts laughter and flicks a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. It's spiked in some places today, not in the faux-hawk it's normally in. And he doesn't have the black marks on his eyes. He crawls towards me and puts his strong arms between my legs. "Might make you dream happy dreams, like dead blondes and sharks."

I giggle; he really must be warped if he thinks THAT is a happy dream.

"I wish," I say, retrieving a joint from inside the baggy. Pre-rolled, and ready to be sparked. "Something tells me you made one up in case I don't smoke bongs."

"And I brought this-" he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a pale blue bong, with an alien sticker on the stem "-in case you do." He grins. "Meet my friend Alien. He's made me happy, even if it's only artificial, on many an occasion."

I giggle and look at the bong, taking it out of Shannon's hand.

I grin at him; this should be fun.

~X~

"Spark it up!"

Shannon grins at me as he lights yet another joint.

In my haze, I have no idea how much time has passed, yet I don't seem to care. The sun has begun to set over the horizon, and it hangs low over the ocean. Cam is sitting in the living room while Shannon and I sit outside on the balcony, watching the setting sun as it slips into the sea.

"That's a beautiful sight," I say, taking a drag of the joint. The smoke goes down my throat and I feel a little bit more like I'm floating on air. Shannon takes a rip from Alien and looks back at me, holding the marijuana in his lungs, to lengthen the effect. He looks out over the railing.

"I see why they call the drink Sunkist now," he says, exhaling at the same time. The silver puff of smoke wafts into the air and I throw a leaf from the tree on the balcony at him. He chuckles and puts Alien on the table.

"Sunkist is orange like the sunset, and they call it a sun kissed sky at sunset," I explain, suddenly feeling smart. I start giggling and it doesn't wanna stop.

Shannon starts laughing too and we fall into a fit of giggles on the floor.

We have no idea how much time goes by, but eventually, we are joined by Kane. He's standing in the door way with a grumpy look on his face, and a clearly miffed Raven behind him.

"What in the hell are you doing?" he says, trying to keep his voice down.

In the background there's crying, with consoling as well.

Oh fuck.

Before I can answer, Kane rips me to my feet by the shirt and puts me against the wall. His nose is about an inch and half away from mine, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. He's pissed.

"Do you have any idea what's been going on while you've been high?" Raven asks as Kane holds me, though he sounds less agitated then Kane.

"Ahhhh nope. That's kind of the point," I say and Kane digs his thumb against her windpipe, almost cutting off the airflow completely. I still can't help but grin like a dickhead.

"Let me get you up to speed," Kane growls, pushing me closer to the wall. My heads lolls to the side and I spot the reason I'm high and being strangled. Shannon is obviously too baked to think clearly because he's not bothering to help me; Gee, thanks, Shan. Kane lifts me off my feet and slams my back against the wall, not that I can feel it, but it re-grabs my attention. "Fucking listen to me when I'm talking to you!" I freeze for a moment and blink. "I trusted you to look after Cam. He's in the living room crying because he climbed onto the bench top, slipped on his shoelaces and fell face-first onto the tiles in the kitchen." His eyes narrow and his fists clench tighter. "My son is crying. _Crying._ Because of you. You have no idea how much I want to kill you right now." He lets me go and goes into the living room.

Raven looks at me. "You're an idiot."

I shrug my shoulders and my pout at him. He and his stupid boyfriend have killed my buzz. "I was just blowing off steam. What's got his panties in a twist? It's not like he actually gives a shit about me. His rant just proved that."

Raven chuckles softly and shakes his head, the movement pulling a few strands of hair free from his boofy ponytail. "You're wrong about that."

"Is he mad coz I smoked all the weed on him and didn't share?"

"Wrong about that too."

"Then why is he pissed at her?" Shannon pipes up, finally putting some input into this argument. "He's not a stoner, he doesn't care about Duck Dodgers from what I can tell. What is it?"

Raven smiles slightly, tucking the hair behind his ear. "Kane once found me in a pool of my own vomit because I had mixed cocaine, heroin and ice in an attempt to block out the real world. He took me to the hospital and made me puke it all up and made me get myself clean. I have been clean ever since. Kane, though he has an odd way of showing it, has a deep-seated affection for me and didn't wanna see me get hurt because of drugs." His lip curls, as if he's thinking. "He see's you as the daughter he can actually take care of, the one who he sees every day."

"I think they call that transference," Shannon says, climbing up from his seat on the floor. I look at him with a puzzled expression. Raven nods beside me and we both look at him.

"Kind of, only he and Morgan aren't partners in the way they behave; they're opponents. Kane and Daffney are partners." He looks directly at me and cups a hand on my shoulder, affectionately rubbing my collarbone, the place where there will be a bruise. "He's fond of you, kid, and he doesn't wanna see you get hurt."

Raven, my best friend, kisses me on the forehead and disappears back into the living room after his other half. I dust off my shoulder and step away from the wall.

"I guess that's what happens when you put five super-powered serial killers in the same house; someone is bound to get hurt." Shan grins at his superhero reference. I smirk slightly at him.

"Around here, its all fun and games until someone gets stoned."


End file.
